


Chosen

by Yen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Breeding Kink, Concubine, Creampie, First Time, King/Concubine, Loss of Virginity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:15:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yen/pseuds/Yen
Summary: Taren, the newest concubine in the imperial harem, is deflowered by his King.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 348
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	Chosen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [taLionic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taLionic/gifts).

“The king is coming!”

“His Majesty arrives!”

Eager babbling rippled out through the assembled concubines, their soft, lilting voices rising and falling as the men and women in the palace harem excitedly passed on the news. There was a sudden flurry of activity, a small commotion as each of the king’s concubines quickly got into line, facing the door in order of seniority. Each of them quickly busied themselves with arranging their clothes, shifting their feet to stand with a hip thrust forward, and re-arranging their hairstyles and their postures so that they could present their most attractive angle to the king.

Taren, sitting cross-legged and alone on a cushion at the very far end of the hall, quickly followed, scrambling to get into position in line with the other concubines. Heart pounding, he smoothed a nervous hand over the front of his short, silky robe, hoping that he looked at least somewhat - presentable, never mind attractive. In the past three weeks since he had been conscripted into the palace harem, Taren had been passed over for selection by King Roan every night. He was beginning to despair of ever getting to meet the king at all.

It had been the shock of Taren's life when the routine fertility screening, conducted on each citizen of the kingdom on their eighteenth birthday, had come back positive. The result of the screening showed that Taren was one of the few, rare men who were capable of bearing children, and in accordance with the laws of the kingdom, the imperial edict summoning him to serve as a concubine in the king's harem had been issued to his household the following day. Taren's parents had been beside themselves with excitement, and his little provincial town had organised a feast in his honour. Within a week, Taren had been shipped off into the palace to serve in the harem of King Roan - just one of the king's many,  _ many _ concubines. 

A hush fell over the crowd of gathered concubines as the doors swung open. The king, flanked on each side by members of his honour guard entered the great hall. 

King Roan was a man in his prime, so handsome that he would have turned heads in the streets even if he hadn't been a king. Just the sight of the king's face sent a frisson of desire through Taren's body, a secret fluttering warmth in his belly that travelled up his spine, setting a flush to his cheeks. 

King Roan's gaze, sharp as a hawk’s, swept over the assembled lines of concubines, cool and assessing. 

Taren squirmed internally. His heartbeat spiked as the king made his way down the neatly assembled lines, his eyes sliding over the gorgeous men and women arrayed before him with no visible outward change in his expression. 

The concubines that had been passed over visibly wilted in disappointment. Taren, on the other hand, straightened his back as the king approached. 

As King Roan came down the line, drawing closer and closer towards where Taren was standing, his heart began to beat even faster in his chest. Cold sweat gathered in the centre of his palms, and he discreetly attempted to wipe them on the sides of his short, revealing robe. Even after three weeks, he still felt extremely self-conscious in it. The robe was a far cry from the simple tunic and baggy trousers that he had used to wear, and he felt wasn't used to showing this much skin. The low-cut garment fell open at his front to reveal much of his bare, pale chest, and the hem of the robe cut off several inches above the mid-thigh, just barely long enough to conceal his essentials without revealing too much to lascivious eyes. The robe itself was made of richly embroidered silk, and the collar and hem was pure white, signifying that Taren was as yet untouched. After Taren had been deflowered by the king, he would be permitted to begin wearing robes with a scarlet collar and hem, a mark of the king's favour. 

That was, assuming the King even elected to spend the night with Taren in the first place. 

Could it really - could it really be him tonight? Would he be the one selected to serve the king? He didn’t dare to let himself hope, after three weeks of disappointment in a row. But he stood as good a chance as any other concubine in the harem. If King Roan would only just look his way… 

Taren gulped.

Somehow, while he had gotten lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that King Roan had reached almost the very end of the line. Just a few more steps, and the king would be standing right in front of Taren.

Roan was now only three steps away from him.

Two. 

One.

Taren froze. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even  _ think.  _ In his three weeks at the palace, he had never been so close to the king before. And King Roan was standing right in front of him now, looking him straight in the eyes. 

The king’s eyes, Taren noticed, were a bright, brilliant blue, so incisively sharp that it was as if King Roan were staring right into his very soul. A thrill ran up his spine as the king continued to hold his gaze, the coolly assessing expression on his face softening into a smile, so warm and genuine that it made Taren's heart melt. 

He nodded at Taren. “You are -?”

“Taren, Your Majesty” Taren whispered, his voice coming out as a breathy little squeak.

“Get him ready,” King Roan said, turning away from Taren to face his servants. 

And that was that. 

* * *

Two of the harem attendants led Taren out of the great hall, away from the envious gazes of the other concubines and down towards the baths. Taren was made to strip naked, and was then scrubbed and soaped by a team of male attendants so thoroughly that it felt like the top layer of his skin had been entirely scraped off. 

After that, he was toweled off vigorously. His dark hair was combed and parted, and fragrant oils were rubbed into his skin, all over his body, on his arms and his legs and even between the cleft of his ass. As instructed by the attendants, Taren turned his back towards them and bent over at the waist. Face flushing with embarrassment, he gripped his ass cheeks in both hands and spread them apart. He bit his lip as an attendant’s finger coolly, clinically penetrated him, slicking him up with a generous amount of warmed, aromatic oil. Then a small, wooden plug was inserted into his virgin ass, keeping his hole loose and slick.

Finally, he was allowed to get dressed, and led into one of the largest bedrooms at the very front of the harem, where King Roan spent each night with the selected concubine he had selected for the night. Taren had never been lucky enough to enter this part of the harem before, and he stared wide-eyed in awe at the luxurious, opulent furnishings before he was pointedly nudged forward by the attendants in the direction of the bed.

Taren obediently laid down on the bed, face up, his body sinking down several inches into the sinfully soft mattress. 

“The king will be with you shortly,” an attendant told him, and then they were all gone, leaving Taren alone in the room to contemplate his upcoming service.

Heart pounding so hard that it made his chest ache, Taren looked up at the silken, richly-coloured drapes hanging above the large canopy bed. Every nerve in his body was strung tight, thrumming with anticipation and terror. With all his heart, he prayed to the gods that the king would find him pleasing, and that King Roan wouldn’t be turned off by the sight of his too-slender limbs, his too-wide hips, his narrow shoulders and unmanly face. It had been a constant mark of his teasing by the other youths in his provincial backwater of a town, Taren’s face. The consensus was that Taren’s long, dark lashes and delicate features were too feminine, not befitting of a young man. 

His spiraling thoughts were interrupted when, without warning, the doors swung open.

King Roan had arrived.

Taren was momentarily frozen in shock - he hadn’t expected the king to arrive so soon. Then he quickly scrambled to sit up on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. No, wait - should he get up? Should he kneel? He had been briefed on palace protocol when he first entered the harem, but at that moment, all thoughts seemed to have fled from his mind. He couldn’t recall how he was supposed to greet King Roan in this situation. What if the king became angry at Taren’s rudeness - 

“Relax,” Roan said, soothingly, interrupting Taren’s panicked internal reverie. Roan’s voice was lightly amused. “No, don’t get up. Let me have a look at you.”

Roan sat down on the bed next to Taren, cupping a warm hand around the back of Taren’s neck to draw him in close. Taren hardly dared to breathe. He looked up into the face of his king, not fully daring to make eye contact, but then Roan slid a finger under Taren's chin, tilting his head up so that they were gazing into each other's eyes. 

“Where are you from?” Roan asked. 

“Vi - Vileta. A small town - a small town in the south, Your Majesty.” Taren’s mouth was dry, his tongue heavy and awkward in his lips as he stumbled over his words. Internally, he cursed himself for giving a stammering answer to such a straightforward question - the king must surely think he was an airheaded fool. 

But Roan merely looked thoughtful, Tring his head and touching his finger to his temple with an expression of serious contemplation on his face. 

"Hmm. Vileta, known for its fruit exports," Roan said thoughtfully. 

Taren was somewhat taken aback. The weather in the southern part of the country was warm and mild, good for growing sweet fruits, but his hometown was so small and so unremarkable that he was quite surprised that the king had even heard of it. 

Roan continued, with a twinkle in his eye, "As well as its pretty men and women."

"Oh, er - " Taren felt his cheeks grow warm again, his stomach suddenly fluttering with butterflies. With a jolt, he realised that Roan was  _ flirting _ with him. 

Suddenly overwhelmed with shyness, Taren blinked rapidly. He tried to look down, but at that very moment, Roan leaned forward, closing the distance between them so that they were practically nose to nose. 

After a heartbeat, Roan leaned forward, pressing his lips against Taren’s in a hot, passionate kiss.

"Oh -" Taren's gasp was bitten off, trailing into a soft sigh as melted into Roan’s fierce kiss. There was nothing in his few teenage fumbles that could compare to the intensity, the fervour of the king’s passion. Roan plundered his mouth, tongue flicking against his lips as then slipping into Taren’s mouth, as if he were conquering uncharted land. His warm hands cupped Taren’s cheeks, tilting his head back so that he could deepen the kiss. 

Taren was gasping for breath when he was finally,  _ finally _ allowed to come up for air. He felt flushed all over, the blood rising to the surface of his skin, dizzy and breathless with a mix of arousal and anticipation. The look on Roan’s face - fierce, hungry, possessive - had him quivering internally in the face of Roan's passion. 

Taren wanted - he wanted - 

The room spun around him as Roan placed a warm hand against Taren’s chest, then pushed Taren back down towards the bed. Taren’s back hit the soft, cushioned surface of the plush king-sized bed. Momentarily disoriented, he barely took notice as Roan’s hands reached for the fastenings of his robe, but he  _ definitely  _ noticed it when Roan placed one of his large palms on Taren's leg. An electric jolt ran through his body as Roan pushed up the hem of his robe, exposing his upper thigh to the cool air, but stopping just shy of his groin. 

It only took Taren a heartbeat to catch on, and then he was moving eagerly in tandem with Roan, shimmying his hips to help Roan along as the king eased his clothes off. The flimsy concubine’s garments were made to be easily removed at the king’s pleasure, and piece after piece of Taren’s clothing was removed, stripped from him and tossed aside. The hem of his robe was tugged up even further, then, with an abrupt gesture from Roan, ripped off him completely. 

Taren gasped once, momentarily startled by the sound of tearing fabric. He was almost fully naked now, except for the thin scrap of flimsy, silky lingerie that just barely protected bus modesty but did nothing to conceal the outline of his cock, already hard and tenting the front of his small panties. 

His heart beating fast, Taren lifted his hips to help Roan slide the panties off him, down his legs, until they were pulled off completely and tossed carelessly over the side of the bed. 

And then he was laid out before Roan, skin exposed to the cool air and spread out before him like a feast, flushed and trembling beneath the king’s hungry gaze, hardly daring to breathe. 

They looked into each other's eyes for a long moment, Taren’s gaze shy and bashful; Roan’s gaze possessive and all-consuming.

Daringly, Taren allowed his legs to part slightly in invitation, looking up at Roan through half-lidded eyes. 

Roan was on him in a flash, his hands spreading Taren's thighs apart. He slid a soft feather pillow under Taren's ass, raising his hips up at an angle. Then he reached in between Taren's spread legs, reaching for the small wooden plug that the attendants had inserted in him earlier to keep him stretched and oiled for the king. 

Taren let out a small whimper, squeezing his eyes shut as the plug was worked out of his ass. It slid out of him with a small, lewd pop, leaving his hole flexing and clenching around nothing. Immediately, Taren felt uncomfortably empty in the wake of its removal. He needed - needed something else, something to keep him filled up. 

A small, needy whine escaped Taren's lips, and as if he could read Taren's mind, Roan began to lift the hem of his own robe. 

He wasn't wearing any underwear beneath it. Taren's eyes widened at the sight of the king's enormous cock, already hard and flushed, bobbing before him as he shifted closer to Taren on the bed. The other gossiping concubines in the harem had been right - the king was indeed very large, far larger than Taren thought would ever be able to fit comfortably within him. The thought of being impaled on that monstrously long, thick cock had Taren squirming, a mix of hot anticipation and anxiety fluttering in his chest. 

Would it hurt? It was said that the first time was the most unpleasant, but Taren somehow couldn’t bring himself to care, what with the hot, eager flush that was burning through his entire body now, burning him up. He spread his legs and lifted his hips in invitation as Roan gripped his cock in his hand and lined the head of it up to Taren’s hole, slicked up and loosened for his taking.

Roan plunged into him with one hard thrust. 

Taren’s eyes widened at the sudden burn of penetration. He whimpered, his hands tightened convulsively, scrunching into the sheets. It  _ hurt. _ More so than he had expected, a sudden, sharp pain which jolted up his spine from having his virgin ass breached for the first time, his body straining to accommodate the king's girth. 

Roan's hips stilled, and he made a small, soothing noise in response to Taren's pained whimper. "Relax," Roan said, but still he was thrusting forward again, rolling his hips to force Taren's hole to open up around his cock. 

The motion punched out the breath from Taren's lungs. As the king fucked deeper and deeper into him, Taren could only hang on for the ride, his hands scrabbling for purchase against the satiny smooth sheets. His breaths came out in shallow whimpers with each thrust of Roan's hips, driving his hard cock deeper and deeper into Taren's ass, impaling his squirming concubine on his thick cock. 

Taren tried to do as Roan had instructed, to relax around Roan's cock instead of instinctively clenching up to force out the intrusion. Still, it seemed to take an agonisingly long time before Roan finally bottomed out within him, his balls pressing flush to the base of Taren's ass. 

He paused for a moment to let Taren. Taren let out another soft, high-pitched whimper as he tried to catch his breath. His cock had gone slightly soft from the initial pain of penetration, but it began to stir with interest again as Roan lowered his mouth down to the base of Taren's neck, pressing soft, gentle kisses and nuzzles up the column of his throat. 

Taren tightened his arms around Roan as Roan began to thrust into again, snapping his hips forward to drive his cock deeper into Taren with each stroke. Each forward slide of Roan's cock drew a fresh moan from Taren's lips. He felt stuffed full, split wide open on the king's cock and stretched to the brim, helpless and aching with some sort of deep, primal want that he couldn't put into words, even in his own thoughts. 

And Roan wasn't being gentle with him any longer. Under the fervour of the king's fierce, rhythmic fucking, Taren could only gasp, his mind blanking out as he gave himself over to the hot waves of lust sweeping through him. He began to rock up against Roan to meet each thrust, his cock curved and pressing up flush against Roan's belly, slick with precum and sliding between their joint bodies as they ground against each other.

Helpless little gasps and pleas fell from Taren's lips, pleas for Roan to fuck him harder and faster. He'd never felt pleasure like this before, so all-consuming and heated that he thought he'd die from the sheer bliss of it. Each time Roan fucked into him, his cock brushed against a pleasure spot deep within Taren in just the right manner to make him see stars. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock jerking as his climax drew close, the pleasure within too much to bear, like a wave building, building,  _ building,  _ right before the crest.

With a grunt and a final hard thrust, Roan stilled above him. His cock stiffened within Taren, and then there was a sudden, unfamiliar but not unpleasant sensation of warmth spreading through his insides as the king filled him with come.

Taren himself was right on the brink of orgasm. He writhed, nails digging shallowly against the back of Roan’s shoulders as he tried to get more friction against his cock. 

Roan reached down, and gripped the shaft of Taren's cock in his warm, large palm. He gave it several firm, sure strokes, pumping up and down the shaft while simultaneously rubbing at the sensitive head of Taren's cock with us thumb. 

Taren let out a soft cry as he spurted into Roan's clenched fist. With a shudder, he spilled into the king's palm, staining it with spurts of creamy white come. 

Roan let go of his cock, wiping his hand carelessly against the sheets, and Taren squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to catch his breath. He was suddenly extremely aware of his flushed, sweaty state, and the unfamiliar sensation of Roan's spent cock softening within his sore ass. 

The king pulled out of him with a wet, lewd sound. Taren could feel the warm trickle of the king's seed, sticky and wet, making its way slowly down his inner thighs. He flushed, aware of how debauched and well-used he must look right now, and for some reason he couldn't even look Roan in the face. 

Roam laughed, then turned him over onto his side. Taren let the king arrange his body as he pleased, his limbs pliant and lax as Roan pulled him into another embrace, pressing a soft, careless kiss against his lips. He felt sore and exhausted, but also -  _ warm. _ Within, and without. 

He blinked sleepily up at Roan, then closed his eyes again, relaxing into the sensation of Roan's arms around him. 

Then Roan shifted away. 

Taren blinked, surprised and slightly crestfallen. 

But Roan had merely moved away to retrieve something from the drawers beside the bed. Soon he'd moved back towards Taren again, but this time he just sat at the edge of the bed instead of lying down next to Taren.

"Spread your legs," Roan instructed. 

A jolt of dismay ran through Taren.  _ So soon? _ Taren wasn't sure if he could handle another round right now. The smallest movement caused the sting in his ass to reignite again. Roan had been so big, and so demanding in taking his pleasure - but he  _ was _ the king, and his commands were not to be disobeyed. Steeling himself, Taren bit his bottom lip as he obediently spread his thighs apart. 

To his surprise, Roan merely reached between his legs to stroke over his hole, his touch gentle, probing around the loosened rim. At the unexpected touch of Roan's fingers where he was sore and used, Taren raised his head to look up at Roan through questioningly. 

In his hand, Roan was holding a large jewelled plug. Approximately five inches long and made of solid glass, with a sleek, girthy phallus and a flared base studded with brilliantly coloured gems, the plug was a work of exquisite craftsmanship.Taren could tell at a glance that it was probably worth more than what his parents made in an entire year.

_ Oh.  _

Taren had never seen anything quite so exquisite before in his life, but its use was immediately obvious. The plug would be going into him - into his ass. As Roan guided it down between Taren's spread thighs, Taren obligingly shifted his legs further apart to accommodate the nudging of the tapered tip at the edge of his sloppy hole.

Instead of the plug that Taren had been expecting, one of Roan's fingers teased at the rim of his hole, rubbing at the swollen, puffy rim. It took Taren a moment to realize that Roan was pressing the come that had begun trickling out of his ass back within him, scooping up the creamy white dribble carelessly with his fingers and pushing them into Tarens's hole. 

The preparations done, Roan began to insert the solid, heavy plug into Taren’s well-fucked hole. Taren didn't need to be told to relax this time. Taren bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut and bearing down as the plug slid, inch by inexorable inch, deep into him where he was still sore and stretched, forcing him to hold the King's come within his used body. 

Taren breathed into the stretch, trying to make himself ignore his instincts to clench up as the thick girth of the plug forced his inner walls wide apart. He was slick enough from their earlier that there was very little friction as the plug was pushed into him, but the plug was hard and unforgivingly solid, a little cold to the touch, and felt much different from the firm flesh of the king’s cock. 

Unused to the sensation, Taren squirmed and whimpered as the king continued to guide the plug deep into his yielding hole, all the while crooning gentle murmurs into his ear, telling him to relax and breathe in. He let out a long exhale of relief as the plug finally bottomed out within him after what seemed like several excruciatingly long minutes, the jewelled base of it nestling snug between his ass cheeks.

His insides felt heavy. Stretched. So  _ full.  _

Taren drew in a small, shaky breath as his hole rippled around the jewelled plug, his body’s instinctive effort in trying - and failing - to push out the intrusion. With an effort, he took another deep breath and attempted to relax around it, trying to get used to the odd sensation of being stuffed full. 

Roan patted the inside of Taren’s thigh, as a master might pat its horse’s flank after a long, hard ride. His lips came down against Taren’s for one final kiss, and then he pulled away and abruptly rolled Taren over onto his front. 

The sudden movement made the plug within him shift, and Taren winced at the unaccustomed sensation of the base of the plug tugging at the rim of his hole. Nevertheless, it was too well stoppered in him to slide out, and it remained firmly in place as Roan tightened his grip on Taren’s hips, keeping them raised. Then two soft feather pillows were shifted under Taren’s hips, keeping his ass raised into the air and his spent cock resting against the soft pillows. 

Taren blinked against the bedsheets, feeling his face grow warm at his very exposed, very vulnerable position, lying prone with his face buried in the sheets and stuffed ass raised into the air. After having been fucked so thoroughly by Roan, he shouldn't still be feeling so shy in front of him, and yet - Taren let out a small noise, almost but not quite a whimper, and Roan patted him on the inner thigh again. 

“Keep your ass up,” Roan said. "Hopefully you'll catch, but don’t be disappointed if you don't fall pregnant this time. We’ll try again." 

Roan's voice was warm and encouraging, and the thought of being fucked by the King again, of Roan taking his pleasure from Taren’s body, sent another flush of warmth through Taren. Taren let out a soft, wordless murmur of assent, and was rewarded with more words of praise.  _ “Good  _ boy.”

Taren pictured the king’s seed held within him, making its way towards his womb, his belly swelling with a little prince or princess. In spite of the uncomfortable position, a faint smile of bliss tugged up the corners of his lips. 

He closed his eyes, giving himself over to the sweet oblivion of sleep.


End file.
